An Artemis Fowl Obsession
by tomeofenigmas
Summary: 12 year-old Quinn Davidson is obsessed with Artemis Fowl to the point that she uses him as an imaginary friend. One day, she wishes for the real deal and she gets it! Artemis has to help Quinn if he wants to get back home. At least take a little peek...
1. Chapter 1

**Warning! **This creeped out all the people I asked to read it. You might get a little lost along the way so I'll explain things, okayz? Well, Quinn is a twelve year old with an affinity for Artemis Fowl. It's like Artemis is her imaginary friend. What's going to happen is she's going to get tired of her imaginary Artemis and she's going to wish for the real thing. Her father 'who art in heaven' will ask God to work a little miracle and actually grant Quinn's wish. The real Artemis shows up and...you'll just have to wait and see what happens. I bet I get full marks for originality, eh? Enjoy the story!

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**Afterschool:**

Quinn Harley Davidson plopped down in her usual seat at the back of the bus, ignoring the sniggers and giggles of the students that peered over the top of their seats to look at the 'Freaky Geek'. When she was younger, the staring and whispers used to bother her to the point that her life was a non-stop ride of misery. Having no friends didn't help her self-esteem any either. But that was before she met Artemis Fowl.

Artemis sat down in the seat next to her and glared at all the kids that were staring at Quinn like she was an interesting animal on display.

"How are you today Quinn?" asked Artemis, brushing a lock of raven hair out of his sapphire eyes.

"I'm fine," said Quinn quietly. "My mother packed tuna again."

"To be frank, your mother is not fit to be a parent. What happened to maternal instincts and the like? What kind of mother would put food her child was allergic to in her lunch?"

"At least she actually made me lunch this morning," said Quinn as she stared out of the window at the fluffy white clouds in the baby blue sky.

Artemis rolled his eyes. "At least she remembered to give you poison."

"Artemis? Can we stop talking about my mom?"

"What would you like me to talk about, then? I read an interesting article on the Chaos Theory the other day…"

"What was your last adventure?"

"Ah. My last adventure took place in the deep and uncharted jungles of Africa. Butler and I were looking for the Sujat Diamond…"

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The door opened seconds after Quinn had rang the doorbell. Her mother stood in the doorway with an unusually large smile on her face that faded into her usual frown as she saw it was just her daughter. 

"Hey Quinn," said her mother. "How was your day today?"

Quinn didn't answer because she knew that it was a rhetorical question. Her mother was already retreating into the dark recesses of their home. Quinn shut and locked the door behind her, took off her shoes and slipped into her room as silently as a mouse. Artemis was sitting on her bed staring up at the ceiling. Quinn said nothing to him as she searched under her bed for her special box.

She pulled out an old shoe box and flipped off the lid. Inside were numerous photos of her dad, a small box of pins and a doll. Quinn had made the doll and fashioned it to look like Robert, her mother's latest beau.

"You're not going to do that again, are you?" asked Artemis as he sat up. He was ignored.

Quinn picked out the box of pins and opened it.

"I'm sorry Robert. You just picked the wrong woman." Quinn plunged a needle into the throat of the Robert doll.

"Do you think it will work?" she asked Artemis. Artemis shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

"Maybe…maybe it's time to let go of your father, Quinn," said Artemis hesitantly. He winced at Quinn's look.

"You can go away now," she said softly. "I have homework to do. And after that, I'm going to improve on this voodoo doll."

Artemis faded back into her imagination. She picked up a needle and stuck it into Robert's heart before putting everything away and starting her homework.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the positive reviews which is the only reason I'm updating. I'm new and I don't know it I should be celebrating over two reviews or hanging my head in shame. It would help a lot if you read AND review so that I know that people are actually reading. Thank you again, punkartgurl13 and epitomeofdarkness for reviewing. I had to Google what 'Mary-Sue' meant...I'll try not to turn her into one though. **Warning**: I'm into psychology and all of that and so this chapter might be confusing. Maybe. But no worries, if I continue writing, the other chapters won't be as...confusing as this one. Enjoy!_

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_"Voodoo death is the ultimate example of the nocebo effect. It would be more effective to make your intended target believe that he has been successfully hexed than to sit around torturing a doll and hoping for results. Although, torturing a replica of the person you hate enough to want to torture will relieve an unbelievable amount of stress…"_

Quinn closed the window she had been looking at and replaced it with an essay she had been working on in Microsoft Word. "Is there a reason that you're here, mother, and not out there with your boyfriend?"

Quinn's mother rolled her eyes as she ventured further into her daughter's room. It contrasted deeply with her daughter's actual character with its stuffed animals, pink pony wallpaper and pink, fluffy heart pillows. If Ms. Davidson had allowed her daughter to decorate her room, she probably would have been looking at a library rather than a child's bedroom. Quinn hated the frivolous items that her mother had equipped her room with, pointing out that she wouldn't be playing with stuffed panda bears or admiring pictures of 'adorable little kitties' anytime soon.

Quinn was unbelievably conservative for a twelve year-old and sometimes she acted so much like Ms. Davidson's mother, Grandma Helen, it was uncanny. She wondered for a moment if they were having clandestine meetings behind her back where Quinn learned to eat, speak and disapprove of things like Ellen, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

"I'm going to dinner with Rob and I'll probably be home late…"

"Last time I checked, dinner takes only an hour or two…unless you're planning to do something else?" Quinn adjusted her glasses and fixed her mother with a look. An _I-may-be-twelve-but-I'm-not-stupid_ kind of look.

Before Ms. Davidson could respond, "Have fun then."

Her daughter's hands flew over the key board and Ms. Davidson knew that she had been dismissed. She wanted to say something but what? The way she sat rigidly in her chair, her back steel rod straight and the way her eyes seemed cold and distant…thoughts of covert meetings ran through Ms. Davidson's head as she got into the car with Rob and drove off to Lobster John's.

"You made your mother _very_ uncomfortable there," remarked Artemis. He was sitting on Quinn's bed again. "Maybe you're being a bit too hard on her?"

Quinn didn't answer him for a while. The sound of typing filled the silence before Quinn turned around in her purple swivel chair to fix Artemis with a glare. Artemis noticed that her nails were piercing her skin and that tiny beads of blood were leaking out of her self-inflicted wounds. He knew that it was a habit she had developed when she was ten and angry but didn't want to dissolve into a screaming, neglected feeling child but it didn't stop him from flinching at the self-mutilation.

"Maybe you should go," she said quietly.

"You've been dismissing me a lot lately," said Artemis. "Why?"

"Maybe because you haven't been acting like Artemis a lot lately," said Quinn. "The Artemis I know would have been on my side."

"The Artemis you know," repeated Artemis. "The Artemis you _knew_ really. You're growing up Quinn. The Artemis you knew was there to protect you from seeing that you were alone. _This _Artemis is the twelve year-old Quinn Harley Davidson's Artemis. And the twelve year-old Quinn _knows _that she's alone… And you can't help but point out to yourself reasons why you might be alone. _You_ may not want to admit it to yourself, so you use me to point out your flaws and…um…could you stop that?"

Artemis noticed that the nails were sinking deeper into her skin.

"Leave…_now_."

Artemis began to fade away reluctantly. "Maybe it's time to get over your dad's death and stop isolating yourself from people…most of all your mother."

Quinn couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

"I'm not alone," she screamed. It was to convince herself but to mostly shatter the silence of an empty house.

Mr. Davidson looked up at God who sat back in his throne with his head propped up on a large hand.

"So what would you have me do, Davidson? It's your call." God watched the angel flap its wings as it thought.

"We wouldn't be able to send an angel down now, would we?" asked Davidson. "One for guidance?"

"Good idea…but no. I can feel it in my bones. The Devil is up to something down below. We can't afford to spare any angels if Lucifer decides to start anything. Maybe we should send someone else?"

"But who?" Mr. Davidson was fully bewildered.

"I was thinking of something...other worldly. Someone that Quinn admires very much."

Once again Mr. Davidson treated God to a confused look. "Who?"

"Artemis Fowl."


	3. Chapter 3

Just like to point out that I made a few changes to the last chapter. I would be psyched if I got some more reviews. You all know the feeling. You go to your email...it says 'Two new messages...'...you open the new mail...one's from your stalker but the other one is someone's opinion on YOUR story...that feeling of elation that someone out there is reading your story...if you want to make me a VERY happy person...REVIEW!!!!!!!

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Artemis couldn't quite believe what was happening to him. He stared at the large man sitting next to him, undetected by his equally large bodyguard, Butler, who sat across from him scoping out the small coffee shop. The man had appeared as if from nowhere and was dressed in a white suit with a wispy white beard spilling down his front. The large man grinned at Artemis. Artemis didn't even try to return the smile but sat in his seat blinking at the man.

Artemis turned to his protector. "Er…Butler?"

Butler turned to his disturbed charge and frowned slightly. He didn't even glance at the chuckling man but focused instead on his charge's distressed expression.

"What's wrong, Artemis?" asked Butler. His hand was already creeping toward his inner pocket, the same pocket that held his Sig Sauer.

"Nothing, old friend," muttered Artemis. The man had stopped laughing and now graced Artemis with a smile. Artemis scowled.

"Artemis Fowl, seventeen year-old Irish genius and millionaire. I've been told that you've decided to walk a less…crooked path and help others instead of just yourself. Congrats for cleaning up your act. Let me introduce myself. I am Gabriel, God's right hand angel. And…I'm here to recruit, _you_." Gabriel snatched his hat off and did a little flourish with it during his pause.

Artemis couldn't help but scoff. _Does this man really expect for me to believe that he's an angel?_

The man snapped his fingers and the world seemed to stop as if someone had pressed the pause button. Butler had been reaching across the table to feel Artemis' forehead but was instead frozen over the table, arm outstretched. People were frozen in mid-step. A clumsy cashier who was about to spill soda all over a young woman stared in permanent shock at the soda frozen in mid-air that was about to splash all over the young woman's very expensive shirt. Artemis began getting up but an invisible force gently (although a bit firmly) pushed him back into his seat. The man stared deeply into Artemis' eyes and Artemis couldn't help but feel …imperfect, under his gaze.

"Artemis Fowl, you are needed elsewhere," breathed the angel. Then…nothing.

* * *

Quinn dragged herself to the corner store and grunted a 'hello' to the shop's owner, Abdul. Abdul smiled and said nothing. He knew when to speak and when not to speak. Judging from the wrinkled black sweats, messy hair and baggy eyes…it was _not_ time to speak. Quinn picked up a large bag of potato chips, cookies, a pint of ice-cream and all six different kinds of Starburst (Original, Baja California Fruit, Tropical, Sour, Berries & Creme and Strawberry Mix). She handed Abdul a crumpled up ten dollar bill and didn't even bother to take the change. 

She walked home at a snail's pace. People gave her a wide berth. No one wanted to get close to the obviously PMSing teen.

"Stupid Robert," muttered Quinn. She was already unraveling the wrapping of a strawberry Starburst. "Stupid mother. Stupid _Artemis_. He thinks he's so _smart_. All he is, is a big, fat, ugly, jerk-face with nothing better to do than to sit down and analyze stuff. '_Oh! You just use me to point out things you see yourself_.' What a joke! I just want to take that head and…darn it!"

Quinn had crushed the cookie that was making its way to her mouth. "Dumb Artemis!"

Quinn felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around and stumbled backwards at the menacing scowl on the vampire boy's face. His skin was unusually pale and made even paler when compared to his glossy, black hair that fell neatly in swoops tucked behind his ears. He was in a suit, which was strange considering he didn't look any older than sixteen or seventeen and the uniform for that age group was a t-shirt and baggy jeans.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting me within my hearing range, thank you," he said curtly. He fixed her with a piercing look. "You must be Quinn."

"Look, I don't have any money," said Quinn backing off. "So just leave me alone…okay?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "I need you to come with me…"

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Perverted Son O' Dracula! I may _look _small but I'm a black belt. If you touch me, I swear I'll go Xena Warrior Princess on you. Look, I've had a really rough day so if you try to drag me into any dark alleys…"

"Whoa!" Artemis held up a hand while using his other one to massage his temples. "Let's get one thing straight, I wouldn't want to do _anything _with _you_. Just the look of you would scare _anyone _away. I just want…"

Artemis hadn't even seen it coming. The large bag filled with miscellaneous junk food collided with his head, making lights go off and on. The pain didn't stop there but went even further when Quinn's sneaker connected with his knee. Artemis was on the floor looking up at a miffed red-head.

"And what exactly is wrong with me?" Quinn tossed her short braid of hair over her shoulder and glared at the boy. "Just because I'm a little chubby and don't look like a rip off of a Barbie doll, I'm instantly rejected. Even by creepy little perverts liek you…I'm out of here."

Artemis wanted to point out that the girl wasn't 'a little bit chubby' but thought it unwise to say so in his current position on the sidewalk. He groaned as he sat up to glare at the retreating back of the young girl.

"Instead of acting like an immature, paranoid little brat, just hear me out, Quinn!"

Quinn paused in mid-step, turned without putting her foot down and glared venomously at Artemis. "Fine, pervert. You've got five seconds and counting."

"Thank you," said Artemis, standing up and brushing himself off. He limped over to Quinn and said in a low voice, "My name's Artemis Fowl and this might sound a little crazy. I come from an entirely different universe than yours and I've been dragged here by some 'angel' or so he called himself and I can't leave until I help with some sort of problem. I was told to find you and figure out the rest on my own but…where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't deal with psychos," shot Quinn over her shoulder. And for a 'little chubby' girl, she sure could run fast.

Artemis began a mantra in his head as he followed the red-head. _MustnotlosemytemperandImustremaincalm. MustnotlosemytemperandImustremaincalm. MustnotlosemytemperandImustremaincalm…

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_LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE!!!!! _Just thought I would capitalize it and put in italics...**_LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE!!!! _**Italics AND in bold...how could you miss that:) -Your Friendly Neighborhood Writer


	4. Chapter 4

This is the fifth time I had to write this! My internet is screwing with me for some reason I cannot fathom. So…a lot of people said that I write short chapters and my response? I swear on a stack of Stephanie Meyer books that this will be the last short I write…for a while…I mean, Mid Winter Break is here and so I'll have a lot of time on my hands to write. I'll have even more time if I cancel my trip to the D.C. area. Half of me wants to go, half doesn't…I'll figure things out eventually. The best Valentine's gift you can give me right now is a review. So review people! Oh, and HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

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"Um…"

Quinn stared at the furious face glaring at her on the other side of her window. She was no longer frightened of the boy, just curious. It was obvious that if push came to shove, despite the difference in age, Quinn would win in a fight. Since he wasn't a threat, she felt perfectly secure in staring at him as he was soaked in the heavy downpour.

It occurred to her that the boy could catch pneumonia standing out there in the cold and wet but Quinn didn't really care. If the boy wanted to stand out there glaring at her for no good reason then who was she to stop him? She shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and gave the boy a little half smile. The boy glowered.

It was Saturday and Quinn's mother still hadn't come back from her 'dinner'. Quinn withdrew from the window, closed the curtain (to her amusement, the boy's eyes narrowed and she could hear his muffled scolding through the glass) and went to the kitchen to make a call. She dialed Robert's number, put the phone on speaker and thrummed her fingers on the kitchen counter as she waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

Quinn winced at her mother's croaky voice. "Mother?"

"Oh, honey! Hi! How's everything going?"

Quinn sighed. "Just fine mother. I just called to check up on you. I thought you just went out for dinner?"

"Well…um…"

"Never mind then." Quinn contemplated whether or not she should tell her mother about the boy outside the house but decided against it. Her mother would probably throw a fit and call the police, the FBI, the Armed Forces and the Navy if she could find their number.

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"How much money did I leave on the counter?"

"About thirty. I assume you're going to be staying at Robert's for a while?"

"Is that okay with you?"

"When will you be back?" It was not missed how Quinn had sidestepped answering the previous question.

There was a pause before Ms. Davidson answered. "Maybe Sunday? Is that okay with you honey?"

"Just fine. I'll see you Sunday then. Bye."

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Mm-hm. Bye." Click. Quinn could almost see the hurt in her mother's face. Once again, Quinn didn't care.

"A tad bit harsh, wouldn't you say?"

Quinn jumped several feet in the air and landed clutching her chest. All the lights were off and there wasn't much sunlight filtering in through the windows so most of the room was full of inky blackness. She whirled on the shadowy corner she heard the voice come from. She gasped as the boy she had been watching from behind the safety of her window got up from his seat. He was still wet and his black hair was plastered to his pale skin with rain making his frosty blue/fierce hazel brown eyes look more menacing as he moved forward.

"We need to talk," he said through gritted teeth. "Sit down. _Now_."

All thoughts of fighting fled from Quinn's mind like pigeons before a mean-spirited five year old. She threw herself into a seat far away from the fuming sixteen year old and feigned attentiveness.

"Now that I have your attention, let's start from the top then…"

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"…truculent little monster," finished Artemis. He swept the wet sheet of hair out of his eyes and glared at the dark window. He couldn't _believe_ that the girl had actually pulled the curtains on _him_. First she hit him in the head with a bunch of unhealthy junk, then she forced him to run several blocks so that he didn't lose sight of her and now _this_. His dignity laid trampled on the floor, thoroughly beaten and in tears. He turned away from the window and slumped down to the ground.

"Need a bit of…help?" Gabriel was suddenly sitting on a white bench in front of Artemis. The rain evaporated inches above his head and the bench but fell in large, heavy droplets everywhere else. He was wearing his white suit and white hat and looked as serene as ever. He smiled up at Artemis who just glared in response.

"I can't work with that…that…_thing_ if she doesn't trust me. If I try to get any closer to her, she'll be sure to call 911 and have the officials arrest me for stalking. Frankly, I'm beginning to question God's authority…"

"Shh!" hushed Gabriel sharply. "_Never_ doubt God's divine power. Are you suicidal? Do you _want_ to get struck by lightning? Look, we're going to provide you with some holy intervention. Take this."

Gabriel held out a silver bracelet with a small silver cross on it to Artemis. Artemis looked at it doubtfully.

"What's that supposed to do for me?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It'll provide you with a temporary amount of extra magic. And you can use it to call me in an emergency. But be warned Fowl. The magic will only last till the end of the year which is seven months from now. Is that understood?"

"That's all great and everything," began Artemis, "but how am I supposed to _use _it?"

Artemis blinked and Gabriel was gone. Without ever feeling it being placed in his hand, Artemis had a note nestled in his palm. _You'll figure it out_. Artemis somehow had the bracelet on his wrist. He glared up at the sky.

"I _hate_ when you do that."

Artemis looked at the house and then back at the bracelet. All he knew was that he needed to get inside the house…

"Just fine. I'll see you Sunday then. Bye."

"Quinn?"

Pause."Yes?"

"I love you."

Pause. "Mm-hm. Bye." _Click_.

Artemis grinned sadistically. He pulled up the magic he had gotten from Qwan and put it into his voice before saying, "A tad bit harsh, wouldn't you say?"

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What do you think? Since it worked last time and I jumped from six reviews to fifteen by doing this…_READ & REVIEW PLEASE! _And now in italic AND bold: _**READ & REVIEW PLEASE!**_ Happy Valentine's Day! 


	5. Chapter 5

Yay! I'm back home from D.C. It was an exhausting trip, especially the ride back home. My friend acted like a four year-old on the way back. I was sitting in front of her and she kept kicking my seat, hitting me in the head and pulling my hair. When I tried to hit her back, she got mad at me! LAST time I ever invite her on a trip she doesn't want to go on. I'll only bring Colleen because at least she was a little bit mature on the trip. Anyway (still steamed) I hope that this chapter is long enough. It's four whole pages of 11 sized font in Calibri which is really small. Tell me what you think please!

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"I was having breakfast with my bodyguard when the angel Gabriel made an appearance and whisked me away to your dimension. On the way here, he explained that you were in need of help and that the only one who could help you was me. I don't know why I'm the only person who can help you and I don't know why you need my help but all I know is that I'm not leaving here until I do _something_ for you."

Quinn stared blankly at him then began laughing hysterically. She stopped abruptly and just stared at Artemis. Artemis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. That's when he noticed the bit of red out of the corner of his eye.

"Could you stop doing that?" asked Artemis moodily. He couldn't help but grimace in disgust as Quinn dug her ragged nails into her skin. It had been annoying enough watching her chew on them during his narrative but he wasn't going to sit back and let her mutilate herself in front of him. Of course he could have ordered her to stop by using his Mesmer but he decided against it. He had to conserve magic until he could perform the Ritual again. Quinn looked up at him through her curtain of red hair and glared.

"I think these," Quinn said, gesturing to her many scars and her fresh one, "are the least of your worries. I'm about ten seconds from calling the cops. Angels. Different dimensions. Holy intervention. How do you expect me to believe all that bull?"

Artemis sighed as he ran a pale hand over his face. At least the girl had stopped clawing at herself and seemed to be in her right state of mind again. Artemis studied her from between his fingers. The overweight twelve year old sat hunched over her lap with her hands between her knees and her red hair falling over her face in a tangled mess.

"I don't expect you to believe me. I hardly believe all of this myself. All I know is that I'm not going anywhere until I help you with this 'problem'. So whether you believe me or not, just tell me what the problem is, allow me to fix it and you'll never have to worry about me again."

Quinn sat up slowly and tried to run her hand through her hair. It got tangled halfway through and she had to fight to free her hand. Artemis chuckled. Quinn just narrowed her eyes at him.

"What I'm struggling with here is the fact that you're supposed to be a fictional character from a fictional world. How are you here? If you really are who you say you are, that is."

"What are you babbling about now?" asked Artemis grumpily. "What do you mean by fictional character?"

"I'll show you," said Quinn before she dashed off to her room. She came back with a golden paperback book that resembled a grandmother's well-used bible. She tossed it to Artemis who caught it deftly and scanned the cover before letting his jaw drop.

"What is this?" Artemis quickly read the first few pages before bolting to his feet and throwing the book back to Quinn. "What is _that_?"

Quinn smiled smugly at the fact that she had hit a nerve. "_That_ is one of many books describing your various exploits and adventures with the People. _New York Times Best-Seller_ too."

Artemis, for once in his life, began to splutter. "W-What…W-who…W-when…_How_?"

His biggest secret…blown sky high. His entire life…unveiled for the world to see. His thoughts which he had thought private and safe…not so private and not so safe. He stumbled backwards and fell into his seat, breathing heavily as if he had just run a 10K race.

Quinn cocked her head to the side, studying his reaction. She didn't think his hyper-ventilating was an act and so, took a cautious step forward.

"So you really are Artemis Fowl?"

Artemis scowled. "Yes! How many times do I have to say it?"

"Well, I'll just run with this until further notice. Okay, _Artemis_. What now?"

Artemis was staring at the golden book clutched to Quinn's chest. "Who is Eoin Colfer?"

Quinn blinked. "An Irish author who is currently working on the sixth book of your series."

"_Six_," moaned Artemis. "If Holly ever got wind of this…"

"She'd probably snag the closest Neutrino and stun Colfer for exposing the People like that. But I don't think the People have to worry seeing as they're in a completely different dimension and people here still think of them as little more than a bit of someone's imagination."

"Still, it's a bit disorienting to know that there is an entire world out there that knows just about everything about you," pointed out Artemis.

"Oh please! You'll get over it."

"So then…I'm popular in this world?" asked Artemis.

"Yes…in fact, you have legions of fangirls (and some fan_boys_) who worship the ground you walk on and who dream of doing all sorts of unmentionable things to you. You should read some of their fantasies that they put on online…Which reminds me…"

Artemis blinked and suddenly Quinn's face was inches from his own. Her glasses were sliding off her nose but she didn't try to fix them. Her eyes were narrowed and she was studying Artemis with such an intensity he could do nothing but squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

"Do you like Holly?" Quinn asked.

It took a second for Artemis to process Quinn's question. "What? No…"

"Do you like Juliet?"

"She's like a sister to me. I would never even think about…"

"Do you like Minerva?"

"No. We have too much in common."

"Do you like Butler?"

"WHAT?!?!?"

"My thoughts exactly when I read that steamy fic about you two being stuck in a sauna together."

"Now wait a second…what? Butler and…what kind of sick, twisted, perverse…"

"Do you like anyone in your book…er…your world?"

"No. No one."

Quinn returned to her seat, clearly satisfied about something.

"What?" asked Artemis cautiously.

"Oh…nothing important."

"Alright then…"

"Do you like Opal?"

"NO! Let's stop talking about this, please!"

"Feeling uncomfortable?"

"I do not feel attracted to anyone I know. _Now_…" Artemis paused to see if there would be anymore interruptions, "about your 'problem'. What do you think Gabriel was referring to?"

Quinn shrugged. "Beats me."

"There has to be _something_ wrong with you or I wouldn't be sitting here right now."

"Nothing comes to mind. I'm perfectly happy with my life and I don't think it needs fixing."

It was quiet for a while. Artemis was busy trying to figure out what Gabriel wanted him to do. Quinn was busy trying to think up questions she could ask Artemis. It wasn't everyday that your favorite character from your favorite book came to life. She settled on asking him if he walked on the queer side of the tracks but before she could ask, Artemis' stomach growled fiercely.

"This is what happens when angels interrupt the breakfast of a growing boy," said Artemis drily.

Quinn smiled inwardly. "Well, seeing as I don't have any blood stored away anyplace and I'm not going to let you chow down on me anytime soon, I guess we'll have to settle for takeout. That okay with you?"

Artemis blinked, the joke on his vampire-like looks sailing over his head. "What do you mean by…"

Quinn opened a drawer that was close by and pulled out several fast food menus. "We've got Chinese, Mexican, Caribbean, Italian and Dominican…what are you in the mood for?"

"None of them," said Artemis haughtily. "Those lethal grease traps will put in the grave before my time."

"Hoodwinking Jon Spiro should have put you in your grave before your time but you're still here, aren't you?"

"That's different."

"Whatever," said Quinn. "Unless you've got cash on you, these are our only choices…WHOA!"

Artemis had pulled out his wallet and taken out a _large_ wad of cash. He counted out his Euros and placed them on the table.

"Where can I get my money exchanged?" he asked calmly.

* * *

Brian's stomach growled as he caught a whiff of his mother's Mushroom, Leek, Chicken Sausage and Tortellini Soup. He pressed the pause button on his video game and fairly flew down the stairs, his brothers Michael and Jason on his heels. He slid to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen only to knocked off his feet by his brothers. All three of them landed in a heap on the kitchen floor. Brian's sister, Amy decided to complete the mess on the floor and jump on top of all three of them.

Although Brian couldn't see her, he could hear his mother's laughter. When he had finally untangled himself from the mess on the floor, he could see her standing over the stove stirring the soup and smiling. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore her chicken apron with the mother hen leading four chicks across the hem. She looked tired but in high spirits.

"Mom, do you need to help?" asked Brian.

"That would be nice," replied Ms. Bernstein. "Could you set the table?"

The Bernstein dining table had seven seats. It was placed in front of a window so that the family could eat using only natural light. Mr. Bernstein was the one who had thought of that idea. He always sat in the seat facing the window but his seat was empty now. It was the second empty seat at the table. The other seat was the guest seat that never seemed to have been filled before. The Bernstein family never really had too many visitors. Ms. Bernstein and the children filled the six seats in the middle.

Eventually the table was set and Ms. Bernstein was ladling soup into the bowls of her young ones. When she got to Brian's plate however, she paused as if thinking.

"You know, I haven't seen Meredith come back from her date with Robert meaning Quinn must be home alone again. Knowing her, she'll probably order fast food _again_. She really ought to watch what she eats, that girl."

Brian didn't have to think twice about what his mother was suggesting. "Can I take some of the soup over to Quinn's?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Ms. Bernstein with a smile. She went to cupboard and pulled down a plastic container with a red top. She ladled some soup into the container and put the container in a paper bag before handing it to her son. Brian didn't comment on the fact that there was enough for two in the bag.

Ms. Bernstein and Ms. Davidson had been friends from childhood. Ms. Bernstein had been psyched to hear that her best friend was moving to her town after two years apart. They lived just four blocks away from each other. Brian and Quinn had been close friends for four years…but that was before Mr. Davidson died and Mr. Bernstein had been packed up and shipped out to a war in a land neither child knew anything about or could pronounce.

Now Brian visited her once in a while. Every time Brian visited her, it was as if she was in her own little world that you needed a special invitation to visit. An invitation he obviously lacked. She hardly ever smiled and usually conversations took two people but with Quinn, Brian had to learn how to make it a one player game. He felt that he was somewhat resented because his father was still alive and her father was not and that in her eyes, he was just an unnecessary reminder of what used to be.

He was only a block away from her house when he saw them walking down the street chatting amiably like old friends. The seventeen year old was drop dead gorgeous and his smile was dazzling although he looked a like a vampire, especially so since it was such a gray day today. He was dressed to impress and looked impossibly neat. Quinn, shabby looking in comparison in her sweats, was talking to him and the boy was nodding.

Brian ducked behind a car and watched the two walk down the street and disappear around a corner. The soup his mother had given him was still warm in his hands. Brian walked the rest of the way to Quinn's house and placed the soup on her stoop before walking away.

* * *

I can't exactly say that I was satisfied with this chapter. But then again, I think we all share this kind of displeased feeling toward our work when we're done with it. I think that I went wrong somewhere between Artemis' and Quinn's conversation and bringing Brian into the story. I think that Brian's scene sounded WAY too homey. What do you think? Looking for constructive criticism as well! 


	6. Chapter 6

Awww…Poor Brian. Will he be able to attract Quinn's attention from this new, mysterious stranger? How will Artemis solve Quinn's problem when she's so reluctant to let him in? Why is Quinn such a social outcast? Will a bond ever exist between the two? Hm…I guess you'll have to read to find out.

Sorry for not updating but I've been busy with exams. If it's a plus, I got the highest on my History and my English. :)

* * *

"So…are you gay?"

Artemis quirked an eyebrow. "Now what could ever lead you to _that_ conclusion?"

Quinn picked up Artemis' hand and waved his freshly manicured nails in his face. "Usually boys don't even know what the word manicure _means_. And look at you. Not a single hair out of place nor a spot of dirt to be seen. What kind of boy _are_ you?"

"The one that cares about his hygiene and the way he looks," sniffed Artemis. "That doesn't make me gay."

"Sure. Whatever," said Quinn, rolling her eyes.

Artemis sighed inwardly. The more time he spent with Quinn, the more obvious it was to him that Quinn had a _lot_ of problems. As silence rushed in to fill the pause in their conversation, Quinn began to absentmindedly dig her nails into her skin. Everyone had their habits but Quinn's habit was definitely beyond queer.

And, admittedly, Artemis had been left alone quite a few times when he was Quinn's age but that was because of extenuating circumstances. Where was Quinn's mother? It was obvious that mother-daughter relationships were more than a little frayed. Artemis studied his rotund charge. Apparently the excess flesh was the result of many nights alone eating fast-food. Artemis couldn't even think of anyone he knew personally who had five fast-food restaurants on speed dial. Artemis wondered exactly how much work he was looking at. The amount of therapy Quinn needed added up to months…maybe even _years_…

"So help me out here," said Quinn, interrupting Artemis' thoughts. "I have this sort of fetish for reading and writing fanfiction and I'm currently writing a fanfic for you. Who would you want to fall in love with if you had to choose? The Gothic rebel girl, a female version of you when you were twelve or a tomboyish girl with insane karate skills?"

"How about none?"

"Choose, goddammit!"

"Fine. I'd choose…aren't there any better options? Someone…normal?"

Quinn blinked. "You want someone…normal? _Why_?"

Artemis shrugged. "Why not?"

"But…they'd be so _plain_. You're a millionaire Irish genius, for crying out loud! You deserve someone who's as unique and special as you are."

"Or maybe someone who's normal who doesn't expect too much of me and who can make me forget all about being the great and almighty Artemis Fowl."

"Who ever said that you were great or almighty?"

"I'm done."

"I was just playing with you. Can't you take a joke?" Quinn punched Artemis playfully in the arm.

Artemis rubbed his arm. "You know, you're stronger than you look."

Quinn chuckled.

"There's a restaurant over there," said Artemis, pointing up the street. "Let's go try it."

Inwardly, Quinn recoiled as she looked at where Artemis was pointing. She paused to stare at the red, blue and white sign that hung above the entrance, displaying the restaurant's name and something in French. It was _La Fantaisie Halète Le Restaurant(Laissez ici satisfait garanti)._ Quinn's stomach fell to the floor with a sickening _splat!_

"I don't think we should…" began Quinn but Artemis was already opening the door and disappearing inside. She sighed and followed.

* * *

Inside the restaurant, it was dimly lit and everyone was murmuring in low voices. Artemis was talking to the maître d'. So far, so good. The tall, mustached man was nodding to what Artemis was saying and for a split second, Quinn thought they were actually going to be able to eat in peace. Until the maître d' looked her way and saw her.

"She isn't here with you, is she, sir?" whispered the head waiter in horror.

"If she is?" asked Artemis coolly. He treated the attendant to a frigid look.

The waiter looked away and muttered, "Right this way, sir."

Artemis didn't move. "I do believe I'm not alone this evening."

The waiter didn't say anything but kept walking towards an empty table in the back of the restaurant. Fearfully, Quinn looked at Artemis. To her relief, Artemis only looked amused and intrigued.

"Why do you think he's treating you like that?" asked Artemis under his breath.

"Let's just go," said Quinn, turning to the door. She felt a light hand on her shoulder holding her back. Needless to say, she didn't like the mischievous glitter in Artemis' eye.

"No," said Artemis firmly. "Let's stay. This will be…fun."

The table the waiter had selected for Artemis and Quinn was far away from the customers but not far away enough for Quinn and Artemis not to hear the chatter that surrounded them.

"It's that Davidson girl…"

"You don't mean…"

"I heard he had to get stitches…"

"So vicious…"

"And in such a young child, too…"

Quinn wanted to dissolve into the floor. She could tell Artemis was soaking up every word he heard. Quinn shifted in her seat.

"You know, Artemis," said Quinn loudly. "It's considered rude to talk about a person when they're sitting not a fork's throw away from you."

Quinn stared pointedly at a skinny, vulture looking lady who was speaking the loudest. The woman gasped and looked around for sympathetic looks as if she were the injured party. She received these looks in heaps. But Quinn's statement had done its job.

"So beastly! But anyways did you hear…"

"So, Beatrice says…"

"I couldn't believe Harold could do such a thing…"

"And so, _I _say…"

"The filet mignon sounds good…"

Artemis smiled wryly as he took a sip of water from his wine glass. "You know, _that_ wasn't very civilized either."

Quinn picked up the menu and scanned it for the most expensive thing possible. "You know you're paying, right?"

"Whatever your heart desires…" drawled Artemis.

Quinn didn't like the trail off at the end of Artemis' statement. "Dot, dot, dot?"

"So long as you tell me a story."

* * *

A red headed waitress came to take their order. She glanced uncertainly and a bit coldly in Quinn's direction and asked Artemis for his order first.

"I think I'll let my friend here order first," said Artemis calmly.

"I'm sorry," said the waitress. "She's lucky to even _be_ in this restaurant. She can wait. I should warn you that it's social suicide to even be _seen_ with her. I suggest you dump her and move on as soon as you have the chance. Your order, sir?"

Artemis smiled dryly. "Yes. My order."

Artemis flipped through his menu before saying anything. "HonestlyIdon'tknowwhatIwant.Italljustlookssogood,youknow?Whatdoyousuggest?Imeanyou'vebeenworkinghereforhowmanyyearsinsteadofatsomejobthat'sactuallynoteworthyandisn'tjustanotherpartofyourmiserable,patethic,mockeryofahumanlife."

"_What_?" said the waitress. Quinn tried to stifle her giggle. Even though she only understood half of what Artemis had said, she was pretty sure there was an insult hidden somewhere in his barrage of questions. But this fact seemed to have flown over the waitress' head. She merely looked confused.

Artemis sighed. Then he began to speak so softly, only Quinn could hear him.

"I was asking for your suggestion but obviously your incompetent brain was unable to comprehend the words coming out of my mouth. It seems the many years of menial, mind-numbing labor _has_ gotten to your brain."

"Pardon?" said the waitress, still looking confused.

Artemis sighed dramatically again. This time he spoke normally. "I _said_, I don't know what I want. What do you recommend?"

"Oh," said the waitress, adding a nervous giggle. "You should definitely try the…"

"I don't eat red meat."

"I wasn't going to recommend red meat."

"Oh. Okay."

"I _do _recommend…"

"I don't eat cheese either. Lactose intolerant."

"Okay. Sorry about that, sir."

"_I'm_ sorry. Could I get another waitress or waiter by any chance?"

"Why?" asked the waitress, starting to lose her patience.

"I'm on a diet. I was wondering if I could get another waiter who could provide a little more motivation."

Quinn's mouth dropped open at the same time the waitress' mouth dropped open.

"I'll have you know, I just underwent liposuction," said the waitress defensively. "If this isn't skinny then I don't know what it is."

"It's called being 'obese,'" said Artemis as if he were talking to a particularly slow four year-old. "God. If this is what you look like now, you must have been _huge_ before."

"I…I…I should…"

"Go on the South Bitch diet?" suggested Artemis. "That would be an _excellent _idea."

"Get out," growled the waitress through gritted teeth.

"Why?" asked Artemis, looking genuinely puzzled. "You were the one who was being rude to my friend."

"As manager of this establishment, I reserve the right to refuse service to either you or your friend," said a dark, husky voice from behind the waitress. A man with at least half a gallon of cheap hair gel in his hair and a dark, greasy look about him stepped forward and glared at Quinn.

"I thought I made it clear that you're not welcomed in here," said the man darkly.

"And why isn't she?" asked Artemis.

"_She_ should tell you why," said the man nodding in Quinn's direction. Then he turned to Quinn again. "You know, he hasn't been the same since that day, witch. He's afraid of his own shadow, now."

Quinn didn't say anything but just stood up to leave.

"I don't want to ever see you around here again, you understand me Davidson?" demanded the man. "You're nothing but trouble. You hear me? Nothing but trouble. Now that I think about it, how do we know you didn't off your old man too? If you could do that to my little boy, how do we know you didn't do your father in? Huh? He _did_ die under some pretty mysterious circumstances. I can't believe the sheriff is actually letting you, Little Miss Megalomaniac, walk around freely…"

"If it's any consolation," said Quinn quietly. "I threw his doll out a long time ago."

Artemis barely managed to get in between Quinn and the restaurant's manager in time before his grasping, ill-intentioned fingers reached Quinn's throat. Artemis quickly led Quinn outside and as they walked away from _La Fantaisie Halète Le Restaurant_ Quinn didn't say anything or do anything. She just followed Artemis obediently with a blank look on her face as if she were somewhere far away…

* * *

So...what is Quinn's past? Hm...I wonder...Well, you'll only find out if you review. So review already! And I can't tell you who's getting together with who or if there's any getting together at all! That would ruin the story!


	7. Chapter 7

This is Quinn's past! OMG! What could have possibly made her hated by everyone in her community? We'll find out here. If you're wondering why this chapter is so short, it's because...I want to draw this out as long as possible.I already have everything written up so…if you want to read more, you better review! The next chapter will be much longer. Promise!

* * *

"I think it's time you tell me what's going on," said Artemis firmly.

Quinn was sitting on the edge of the fountain, staring dismally into the glistening water. She turned to face Artemis and for a second Artemis was taken aback by the expression on Quinn's face. It was utterly and completely cold. Before when Quinn had responded angrily towards him, she had always been fierce and full of emotion. Her face now was completely devoid of feeling and was dangerously calm.

"You have problems that I'm here to help you with," said Artemis quietly. "But I can't help you with anything if you keep me in the dark."

"'You have problems,'" repeated Quinn incredulously. "That…is such an understatement."

"Tell me about it," said Artemis, sitting beside Quinn on the edge of the fountain.

"I don't even know where to begin. Or whether I want to begin."

"Quinn…"

Quinn waved away what Artemis was going to say and sighed. "Fine. Just don't think any less of me, alright?"

"Boy Scout's honor," said Artemis holding up one hand and grinning.

Quinn chuckled.

_The chain link fence rattled as Quinn stumbled into it, dropping her books and things onto the tarmac as she tried to catch her balance. Another rough shove sent her face-first into the asphalt and for a few seconds, she was completely winded. Every part of her body ached and her cheek and hands were on fire. Without even looking, Quinn knew that both her hands and cheek were scraped and bleeding. She was familiar with the injuries sustained from being bullied on the playground. Very familiar._

_She sat up wearily and sighed. As usual, the school aide was nowhere to be found and she was on her own again with the school terror, Paul Pierre. He loomed over her, smirking. She tried to get up but Paul merely shoved her back to the ground with his foot._

"_Where you going, Freaky Geek?" sneered Paul. _

_Quinn glared up at Paul, her eyes swimming with angry tears. "Could you just leave me alone for one day? Just one?" _

"_You're just so fun to pick on," said Paul with a malicious grin. _

_At times, Quinn felt like she was the star gladiator at the Roman Coliseum. Kids were already gathering in a ring around Paul and Quinn and Quinn was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to leave until the kids' _

_need for live entertainment was met. Quinn winced as Paul reached for her face with a grubby little hand. He frowned at this and that was the last thing Quinn saw before Paul took away her glasses. _

_This was new. Paul had always beaten Quinn and left it at that. But apparently, the torment today was scheduled to be drawn out as long as possible. Everything to Quinn was now a colored blur. She waved her arms out in front of her, hoping to catch Paul but caught nothing but air. Children laughed as Quinn's cheeks burned with anger. This was going too far._

"_Give me back my glasses!" demanded Quinn. _

"_Look at me! I'm Quinn! Oh my God! I thought glasses were supposed to make you see. These things are blurry as hell. What? Your parents couldn't afford anything better?"_

"_Shut up Paul!"_

_Children were guffawing now. Where was the school aide? Quinn began calling for help._

"_You know, a father's supposed to provide for his family. At least that's what my father taught me. If a father was as good-for-nothing as your dad, then he should just drop dead. There isn't any point in his being here if he can't even buy you some proper glasses."_

_Quinn went deathly quiet. Although she couldn't see her face, it must have been frightening. The playground was silent. She found Paul's limp hands and snatched her glasses from him. _

"_Quinn…"_

_Quinn was gone._

* * *

So what does Quinn do to get even with Paul Pierre? We'll find out soon enough. My request for the release of the next chapter 1, 000, 000, 000 in unmarked bills and J.K. Rowling as my indentured servant. But I'll settle for four reviews instead. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Well. The reviews came in pretty fast. I was caught totally off guard because I didn't expect many to come in. When I checked my email (finally) WOW! About eight new reviews. That is completely AWESOME! So check out the much anticipated EIGHTH chapter.

* * *

"_Quinn?"_

_Quinn didn't even bother to unfurl from her fetal position. If anything, she tensed as her mother walked over to her bed and placed a gentle hand on Quinn's unkempt red hair. Even though it was uncomfortable laying face-down in her tear-soaked pillow, Quinn didn't have the energy to move._

"_Oh, Quinn," said Ms. Davidson, giving her daughter a squeeze. "Your father's in a better place now."_

_Quinn ignored her mother. Her presence, instead of comforting, only made her feel worse. It only made her remember all the horrible things her mother had said to her father. _

"_**This isn't what I signed up for!" screamed Mrs. Davidson.**_

_**Mr. Davidson looked helplessly up at his wife. "I'm trying my best, dear. I…"**_

"_**I was told that I wouldn't have to work a day in my life if I marry you," snapped Mrs. Davidson. "So I did. Now I'm stuck working a nine to five job to support both you and our daughter. And what do you do all day? 'Look for work.' It's been half a year and you're still 'looking for work'. How long do you expect me to swallow all this bull?"**_

"_Oh, honey," said Ms. Davidson giving Quinn's shoulder another squeeze. "I know you're hurt by your father's accident…and…and I know how you like to keep your feelings to yourself but…if you ever feel like talking…?"_

"_I'll let you know," said Quinn dismissively. _

"_**Mom, what's going on?" asked Quinn, feigning drowsiness. "I heard you yelling and…"**_

"_**It's nothing, baby," said Ms. Davidson, hastily lowering her voice and putting a smile on her face. "Why aren't you in bed yet?"**_

"_**I just heard…"**_

"_**Why don't you just skip off to bed, huh? Me and your dad were just having a grown-up chat. And I'd very much like to return that little discussion." **_

_**Ms. Davidson stared pointedly at her husband while Quinn yawned. Quinn walked over and sat herself down on her father's lap.**_

"_**I want to stay up with Dad," said Quinn, pouting. **_

_**Mr. Davidson smiled and kissed the top of Quinn's head as Quinn got a firmer hold on him. Quinn's mother threw her hands up in exasperation and exited. Probably to raid the fridge. Quinn smiled covertly. It always comes in handy being small and cute when you want to stop an argument.**_

"_Quinn, at a time like this, I really think that you should stop trying to act so grown and just act your age," demanded Ms. Davidson. "I know you're scared and hurt and angry and it's okay to let it all out. You don't have to handle every little thing by yourself. You're just too damn young."_

"_And you were just too damn retarded," retorted Quinn. _

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Chivalry died a long time ago and fairy tale endings only happen in stories. Your head was in the clouds if you expected Dad to pay all the bills by himself. Take care of us by himself. Make you, of all people, happy all by himself. He died trying to please you. Trying to get a damn job so he could 'give you what you signed up for'. You were always so critical of him. So mean…" Quinn's voice cracked. "And I was the only one who understood him at all. I had to protect him from you."_

"_How could you possibly blame all of this on me?" asked Ms. Davidson._

"_Because of all the people in this goddamned town…you should have been the last person to look down on him. It's fine for everyone else to do it but when his own wife couldn't even deem him worthy enough to wipe her shoes on…Dad just hit a new low. And you didn't even realize it you self-absorbed prick."_

"_You shouldn't talk to me like that young lady!"_

"_Careful. Or you'll drive me to kill myself too."_

_The slap was so sudden and unexpected, Quinn didn't even cringe from the pain. She blinked at her mother. Her mother's eyes slowly filled with tears as she stood and left. Quinn just sank back down onto her bed and stared up blankly at the ceiling. _

"_**You know, a father's supposed to provide for his family. At least that's what my father taught me. If a father was as good-for-nothing as your dad, then he should just drop dead. There isn't any point in his being here if he can't even buy you some proper glasses."**_

* * *

_Quinn was alone. Her mother had already left to go to the morgue to finalize details for her husband's burial. Holed up in her room, she drifted from website to website, just staring absent-mindedly at the screen. Until she ran across a certain headline that caught her attention. She clicked on it and waited for the page to load. _

'_101 Ways To Get Revenge On Someone,' the website had read. It had been meant as a joke but it turned out to be so much more. Just between rule #67: Get as many alarm clocks as possible, set them for different times throughout the night and hide them in your target's room and #69: Smother their house with honey and set loose a circus bear._

_It read: #68: Make a voodoo doll and torture them (try out this website: __/howtomakeavoodoodoll__)_

_Quinn quirked her eyebrow. Even though her mother was a Christian, Ms. Davidson believed her children should be able to choose the religion that fit them. She had brought Quinn to Sunday school for three years before Quinn told her she didn't want to go anymore. Ms. Davidson had listened and allowed Quinn to stay home. Even though Quinn didn't believe a majority of what she had learned from church, most of the beliefs stuck with her. Quinn felt nervous about clicking the link but was curious._

_To Quinn's amazement, she had all the materials necessary. It was like she was in a trance as she crafted Paul's doll. It took most of the weekend to make it but when Quinn had finished, she was proud of how professionally made the doll looked. All she needed was some hair…_

"_Voodoo_?" said Artemis skeptically.

"I don't know," mused Quinn. "It was like I was meant to make that doll. It felt like something else guided my hand as I sewed the doll up. It just felt so right making it."

"And the angels want to help _you_, why?"

Quinn shrugged. "The Lord works in mysterious ways."

* * *

_It was a sin how much the blade of the scissors gleamed in Quinn's hands. Entrancing and begging to snip off a bit of Paul's hair. It was Arts & Crafts time. The funeral had been two days ago and now more than ever, Quinn was aching to get the hair to complete the voodoo doll. After a very humiliating welcome back, Quinn was sitting in her old seat behind Paul debating whether or not to go for the brown. _

_Do it._

_Leaning forward slowly, Quinn made sure the scissors would cut off a huge chunk and…_

"_QUINN DAVIDSON! WHAT ON EARTH…?!"_

_Brown strands littered the floor and Quinn clutched a handful in her hand. She was going to get in trouble, sure. But it was worth it._

If you wish to continue reading, you know what to do. Press the tiny little purple button and **REVIEW!! Minimum before I write again: 6**


	9. Chapter 9

Firstly, I would like to say, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW… I can't believe…I can't even begin to imagine how…WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW… TWENTY HOURS…THIRTEEN REVIEWS. That's all that needs to be said.

O.O

Apologies, _TheSorrowfulVampress_. I never seem to be able to write more than four pages per chapter no matter how hard I try. I'll be sitting at my computer screen for _hours_ and always end up with a scant amount of pages. Seriously. All you'll hear from my room is _tip-tap-tap-tap-tip-clack-click-click-clack_. I'll try to write longer chapters…(stares helplessly at computer screen) somehow.

And thanks, _boogalaga_! Your advice is really helpful and you sound like you have experience under your belt with character development. I'll try to keep Quinn un-Mary Sue-ish and undramatic. The last thing I want is for this to turn into a soap opera kind of thing.

Hollabaloo. You caught me.

Once again. _Thirteen reviews_. Wow. Thanks!

WARNING!! I know Artemis isn't privy to swear words but I couldn't help it. This is the first and last time you will ever hear him utter an obscene word but I thought the joke at the ending was too funny to resist! :)

* * *

_With shaking hands, Quinn glued the hair carefully to the doll she had made. Would it work? After how many days and nights spent working tirelessly on Paul's voodoo doll, Quinn was beginning to doubt if the time was well spent. But then there was that feeling again of just _knowing _it was going to work. The needle trembled as she drew it close to Paul-Doll's throat. She wasn't a killer. She altered her hand's path to Paul's arm and took a deep breath before plunging the needle into Paul's arm. Nothing._

_Nothing had changed. Was she supposed to feel something? A sense of power? A sense of the spell being done? That didn't matter, did it? She felt nothing. Out of pure anger, Quinn ripped Paul-Doll's leg half-off before regaining control. Had she really expected something so foolhardy and stupid to work? Now she was doomed to spend three weeks of her life locked away in the deep recesses of school basement in something the teachers liked to call 'detention'. All for nothing. But maybe…_

_Quinn turned on her computer and opened the internet. She went to her favorites and scanned it for the website that had instructed her in making the voodoo doll. But it wasn't there. Where was it? She went to Google. She typed in 'voodoo doll' and scanned the search results. It wasn't there. What was that website again? For some reason, even though she had spent days on it, she couldn't recall what it was. Quinn's search was becoming more and more frantic. She couldn't find it. She couldn't find it!_

_Quinn turned off her computer and threw herself on her bed. Staring up at the ceiling she wondered…what the heck am I thinking? So I can't find the website. Maybe the website was just a hoax. A stupid little prank. _

_But deep inside, Quinn wondered if it was something else._

_Quinn turned over onto her side to stare at Paul-Doll. He stared blankly back at her. She should get some sleep. Tomorrow was school anyway. _

* * *

"_Can I talk to you?" _

_Quinn looked up. It was Paul. "Leave me alone, Paul."_

"_But I really need to talk to you."_

_It was recess and already kids were looking in their direction, sensing the possibility of torment in the air. Quinn studied Paul. It was obvious he wasn't going to leave her alone until he had told her what he needed to say. A school aide was nearby for once. Quinn didn't feel afraid._

"_Say whatever you got to say then and leave," ordered Quinn. _

"_Not here," said Paul. "I need to talk to you in the alley."_

_Quinn was about to say no but then that feeling filled her again. That _knowing_ feeling. It was so delicious having it back, Quinn didn't even fight it as it drew her after Paul who led her to the alley behind Mrs. O'Neil's class. There Paul dawdled, obviously nervous about something._

_Quinn said nothing. She was still wrapped in the feeling of _knowing_. Right now, the feeling was telling her something wonderful was going to happen. _

"_Quinn, I…" _

_It came from nowhere. The _knowing_ feeling told Quinn that the froth-dripping dog growling hideously and dangerously low wasn't in the alley by accident. The dog was missing a bit of its ear and had a scar that decorated it's horrible, teeth filled muzzle. How did a dog make it onto school grounds? Suddenly, the _knowing_ feeling spiked and became buzzing feeling inside of Quinn. A horrible thought entered Quinn's mind, her thoughts returning to the savaged Paul-Doll now laying under her bed. _

_This is it. _

_The dog didn't even look at Quinn. It focused on Paul. The dog leapt. It's teeth latched onto Paul's leg as Paul stumbled backwards. Quinn had never really noticed the rusted and unimposing steel rod that stuck up out of the concrete for some unknown reason in the middle of the alleyway. It had always been there. What was its purpose? Had it been put in place just for this to happen? Quinn watched as its rusted and pointy tip disappeared into Paul's arm. _

_The blood was splattered all over her. Everything felt so surreal. The steel rod had gone straight through his arm like the needle had cut through Paul's arm. Paul was gasping for air as he clutched the tear in his leg where the dog had torn into him. She didn't want to see anymore. God, she didn't want to see anymore. So she didn't as she fainted into darkness._

* * *

Artemis was particularly still. He said nothing as Quinn looked at him.

He must have looked skeptical because Quinn asked, "Well?"

"It could've been a mere coincidence," pointed out Artemis.

"The hole that I made poking Paul-Doll in the arm was just a little above the elbow. The hole through Paul's arm was a little above the elbow. The tear I made in Paul-Doll's leg was on his right one. The dog bit through Paul's right one. It's coincidence, is it?"

Artemis said nothing.

* * *

_Having the more minor injury, Quinn was allowed to go home first._

"_You're so lucky," gushed the nurse who had taken care of her in the hospital. "The dog just completely ignored you for some reason. Can you imagine what he could've done to you? This'll be one of those stories you can tell at a cocktail party or something…"_

_But Quinn only stayed at home briefly. When she appeared in the living room dressed and ready to go, her mother didn't ask questions. The look on Quinn's face was determined. Quinn's mother just sighed and waved her away. So Quinn left, Paul-Doll in hand._

_Her destination? Arnhem Hospital. _

_Paul just stared blankly at her as she laid Paul-Doll on his chest. Dots were connected in his head. Quinn watched as the cogs turned and two and two became four. _

"_I'm sorry."_

_Paul said nothing._

"_I said, I'm sorry."_

_Still, Paul stayed silent._

"_I didn't mean for things to go so far. It's just that…"_

"_You monster."_

_Silence fell in that room. Suddenly it was very cold. The feeling of _knowing_ filled her once again, telling her she could hurt him and hurt him BADLY. But she pushed the feeling aside and tried to ignore the rising buzzing inside of her. _

"_What?"_

"_You. Monster."_

_Something inside of Quinn snapped. After all those years of torment, SHE was the monster?_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_I don't want your apologies."_

"_Still. I'm sorry I ever came."_

_Quinn lifted Paul-Doll from Paul's chest and turned to walk away._

"_You know, I liked you, Freaky Geek."_

"_I guess you liked the wrong person," murmured Quinn. "And my name's not Freaky Geek. It's Quinn."_

"_Freaky Geek, how could you do this? Did you hated me that much?" _

"_Right now…I'm not liking_ anyone that much_." _

"_Did you hate your father that much? I guess you really took my advice to heart. Worthless fathers are better off dead, huh?"_

"_You know…" Quinn turned and waggled Paul-Doll in Paul's face, a sick smile on her face. "This was kind of fun. I mean _really _fun. I think I'd do it again. And again. And again. And again. Why? Because all of you…make me _sick_. Heck, maybe I'll off your dad and see how you like it. That would fun. Almost as fun as making _your_ doll."_

"_Hey! My dad isn't as worthless as your dad was."_

"_The way you turned out…I think he was. From now on, you will leave me alone. You understand? All of you, will leave me alone."_

_Quinn turn and walked away. It wasn't long until walking gave way to running. And running. And running. And running._

* * *

Artemis rubbed his temples. "I still find it hard to believe that _voodoo_ actually works. The thought isn't at all viable. And voodoo aside, what worries me is that you said you would do it again. Even if voodoo is merely a useless, inane ritual, the fact you believe you hurt this boy for real and the fact that you would do it _again_ is troubling."

"I have tried it again, you know," said Quinn quietly. "With Robert."

Artemis' eyebrow jumped up as if it had been electrocuted. "You did _what_?"

"It didn't work. I need that website again to make it work. I can't seem to get the spell right…"

"Quinn this is utterly ridiculous!"

"The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind. Maybe you're one of them."

"I try to keep an open mind, but not so open that my brains fall out. This is ridiculous!"

Quinn glared at Artemis. "This is the only bit of power I have in my life and I'm not going to give it up because of some petty argument about right and wrong!"

"Petty? Lives are hardly considered _petty_. And lives are exactly what you're messing with here, Quinn."

"Go away."

"What?"

"I said _go away_!"

"I'm not some imaginary friend you can wish away at will."

"I know. That's why you're all the more infuriating!"

"Look. I think we should talk about this."

"There's a minor problem with that suggestion."

"What?"

"I'm done talking."

Quinn stood up and stormed off. Artemis still sat on the edge of the fountain, watching the chubby red head storming off. He waited a moment for this action to sink in and then stood up and cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Bipolar bitch," shouted Artemis

Quinn turned and walked backward long enough for her to retort with, "Meddling motherfucker!"

Quinn smirked and turned back around. Redheads could be SO annoying.

* * *

Okay. So I busted my chops writing this chapter. My fingers are cramped and I'm glad to say this is a full, SIX pages! YAY! Two more than my average four page output. Apparently making demand for more reviews works. So here goes. I demand... a treacle tart (I looked it up and it looks DELICIOUS) and...six reviews!


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